


Level 8

by umiiral



Series: Quick tequila shots [1]
Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Drinking, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umiiral/pseuds/umiiral
Summary: Jinsol expected nothing but a lonely drink in hand and the easy lethargy that would come after. She didn't expect Jungeun to play along.
Relationships: Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Series: Quick tequila shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698568
Kudos: 95





	Level 8

**Author's Note:**

> I had Woomana Jinsoul and Kim Lip in mind while writing this, that was a SERVE.

They met again after a year of not sighting each other within this urban city in a sports bar one Saturday night. There was nothing to do at her apartment and her brain still won’t die down from the buzz of that day. She needed a drink, needed a couple of shots to make her sleepy and then she would call it a night.

Never did she expect to see a familiar face sitting beside her usual stool by the bar. It was still the same blonde hair from college, the same stature and the same set of firm shoulders. This time it was coated with a leather jacket partnered with a Moschino shirt.

“Jungeun? Lippie? Hi? Hello!” Jinsol sat and faced her as she turned, completely ignoring her use of that nickname that nobody has used ever since they graduated.

“Jinsol! How is it going? I’ve seen your IG stories!” To this Jinsol opened her arms for a hug which Jungeun obliged to, because they were friends before and it meant nothing if it made an impression to Jinsol that she smelled of mandarin orange and a bit of the Tequila she was drinking for who knows how long.

“When you need to audition to entertainment companies you get to travel a lot.” Jinsol signaled for the bartender to come then pointed to the Don Papa in the shelf behind him. “A shot of whiskey and a Sprite please. Thanks.”

Jungeun still looked awfully and comfortably the same. Same hairstyle, same posture, same upturning of her lips when she hears something amusing, although Jinsol thought she would never feel the same as before being with her like this. Jinsol remembered she had the habit of alternating contact lenses. Sometimes, she would wear baby blue, sometimes purple, it actually depends on her mood. Tonight she was wearing lenses of warm brown irises, which made her a bit doe eyed under the gentle bar lights. It suited her nevertheless.

“I see. You’re still the same bleach blondie, _huh_? Level 9, very light. ” If they had one thing in common it’s that they could never stop commenting on each other’s appearance. They couldn’t cease giving attention to every single thing that they are, that they embody. An intensified gaze meant for your lover for the night where she is hyperaware of what’s going on around her but she would not let a word slip from her mouth because she’s still doubtful of herself.

“Okay but you’re like Level 8 or something? Not far from what I had done I bet. So cheers to being blonde forever?” She raised her glass which was handed to her just then.

Jungeun adjusted herself to she could reach Jinsol’s glass with her fifth tequila shot, their knees bumping under the table but she was buzzed enough to not care. “I plan on going brunette next but who knows?”

“When? Tomorrow?” Jinsol sipped her drink purposefully slow, knowing Jungeun was sort of watching her from the corner of her eye and acting interested with the salt on the rim of her shot glass.

“Well, again, who knows?” Jungeun darted her eyes away quickly from the line of Jinsol’s exposed jaw and downed her fifth shot in one go.

“I know one thing though.” This time, she was inching steadily nearer to Jungeun’s space, which she did not mind at all, so when she breathed Jinsol could feel it on her face.

“This is going to be one of the nights.”

\--

In the entanglement of their limbs within the parameters of Jungeun’s apartment there was a sudden moment of whiskey-influenced awareness for Jinsol.

_Time and time again you’ll find yourself here._

Which she paid no heed because Jungeun tasted of salt and bittersweet Revlon lipstick just like how she imagined hours ago in the bar, on their stools where their legs were slowly loosing its ability to carry the both of them. Jinsol was in a daze, Jungeun’s tongue on her teeth, her swallowing what little remained of reason within her mind. The people around them kept moving but they were suspended in their own continuum. So maybe that was where _here_ could be found, what’s between the two of them.

“Ah, fuck it.” Jungeun was riling her key holder against the door handle because her vision was blurry on the edges, she couldn’t see what key could fit.

“Here, let me.” Jinsol’s fingers were cold around hers, colder than the night air that was penetrating their coats. And Jungeun could alleviate that, Jungeun could solve that. If her body could talk it would only scream, _Jinsol, you, you, you._ She turned the nob and the cold was shut off behind closed doors, they were already inseparable again.

“I wanna fuck you, I want to. Can I?” Jinsol was nibbling the sides of her ears and she was delighted by it.

“Yeah, why the fuck not?” And they were undressing like it would salvage them. Leather jacket thrown haphazardly on the floor, jeans, someone’s white shirt. Jungeun’s bangle gleaming against the soft lights when she caressed Jinsol’s face after they’re in nothing but undergarments.

Then they were kissing as if not doing so would deplete them, on Jungeun’s couch, making out there, with their tops off, tongue on her nipples, biting the skin that met her teeth, moaning into the empty space of the ceiling, whispering her name like a prayer, until they decided it wasn’t as spacious for what they plan to do with each other.

Kim Lip’s bed was a queen sized and she thanked her past self for the hefty purchase. Jinsol was on top of her the moment she spread her legs to engulf her in between. They could not stop kissing and Jungeun wished she could stop tasting her in her drunkenness. When Jinsol broke it off to settle between her legs she believed she looked like was waiting for it.

“Are you waiting for it?” Jinsol was biting down the garter of her black underwear.

“Shut up,” And Jinsol did, for the first time that night when Jungeun was exposed to nothing but her skin and cunt. She felt a flick of a tongue down there, a taste of what she had to offer. Then a finger going inside just to explore what was more of her.

Jinsol was spreading her lips so she could lick her clit better and it made Jungeun go buckwild. It was a sight, Jinsol busying herself with pleasuring her that she was starting to lose the feel of her toes.

“Fuck, I just –“ Slender fingers hitting that sweet spot inside, Jinsol’s tongue still on her clit and that’s what it took for her mind going to go blank for a second or so. Jinsol was sucking the orgasm out of her and Jungeun’s hands were keeping her fixed on her clitoris down there.

“God,” She said as if she was learning to breathe again.

“Yeah,” Jinsol emerged from beneath was hanging on her every word, the alcohol in her blood was beginning to subside. “Yep.” She was holding onto both of her knees to be steady.

“Are you good? Come here I’ll make it up to you.” Jungeun was caressing her hands like they saved her.

Jungeun’s hair was spread beneath her like it sunbeams against the dark of her bedsheets. Her eyes were lidded, she looked relaxed and happy. Jinsol wanted to indulge for a little bit more. But she was doubtful. She thought if she collapsed into Jungeun’s arms that night she would never want to leave again. To be caressed lovingly instead of doubting oneself. It seemed utopic.

“I’m good, babe.” She dipped down to kiss her forehead, then her nose, her pale lips where all the lipstick was rubbed off. “You have to call me, do you have my number?”

Jungeun sensed that she wanted to leave. “Do you have to go now?”

“I think so, yeah.” She stood up with a slight grunt and started to get dressed.

“I’ll bring you downstairs.”

The dip on Jinsol’s pale back was beautiful against the stark shadows of the window blinds that striped it. She clasped her bra and was working on fitting in her skinny jeans. _I’ll miss you, you know I would call you._

“Thank you, but no need. Just relax now.” She was already putting on her jacket. Too late. Try again tomorrow, the other night and the next. “Good night, Jungeun.”

“Good night.” And with that, she was out of her bedroom door.

\--

Nothing seemed to make sense until they have begun visiting each other’s places when Jinsol complained about the lack of variety in their so-called ‘set-up’. Well, Jungeun suggested it first, if Jinsol were asked and she decided to come off as defensive. During one of their many nights where the air was oddly cold that it resonates within and maybe she could reason out that Jinsol was the nearest warm body. She could just say she was just curious on how this woman lived.

“It’s gonna be your place the next time,” She said the moment she heard Jinsol answer the other line.

“Hel- Okay, and why?” She could imagine Jinsol raising an expressive brow.

“You shed so much hair in my bed.” Jungeun touched the surface of the pillow sheet and felt some strands there, hers and Jinsol’s.

But she knew what kind of blonde dye she had, _Level 8._ So when she woke up the next morning, the right side of the bed warm and empty, fixed it while her mind still half-asleep and groggy from being buried in the sheets for too long as she overslept and the tequila was wringing the folds of her brain, she knew whose hair was on the pillow case. She knew what kind of blonde she was.


End file.
